Mechanism
by SSBB.Swords
Summary: As a graduate student, Marth never wondered if there was anything other than academics & work. As a junior working part-time at the coffeeshop, Ike wondered why he kept staring at that student every Friday morning. -Yaoi,Slash: Ike/Marth-
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Notes:**__ Due to the lack of SSB fanfiction, this happened. I'm sorry._

_**Warnings:**__ Yaoi, shounen-ai, slash, whatever you call it. Don't like, don't read._

_**Pairing(s):**__ IkeMarth. Surely others, but I'd love ideas, and if you have a pet pairing, let me know!_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own Super Smash Brothers._

_**Summary:**__ Teaching assistants, hours at the coffeehouse, graduate programs, undergraduate tutoring, medical students... no one ever thought there was more to college than academics and work._

* * *

Mechanism

By SSBBSwords

* * *

His discussion section was on Friday, 8:00 am, followed by the course lecture at 9:00 am. Attendance was understandably poor. Nevertheless, he was always there, if not a little early.

Every Friday then, he stopped by the coffeehouse on campus before teaching. After all, most graduate students were teaching assistants. He just happened to TA for general chemistry.

When waiting for his order, he tended to watch the working undergraduate behind the counter. Tall, boyish, and disarmingly cheerful for a quarter past seven in the morning. The young man would fix his medium-sized tea in a cardboard sleeve and repeat with a smile, "Careful. It's hot."

He usually had time to spare and would review his lesson plan. And he always popped off the plastic lid once he was settled at the table, notes and textbook askew.

If another customer walked through the door, his eyes always flickered toward the movement, and sometimes, his eyes would lock with the working student's. But only now and then.

His routine never deviated on these days, so he was rather surprised when a figure dropped into the chair across from him.

"Marth. 'Morning." The blond yawned discreetly behind one hand. "Going to lab today?"

He blinked at his roommate (also a fellow graduate student in the same research lab). This was inexplicably early for such a late sleeper. "No, I have class. What's the occasion?"

Link smiled and rotated his cup of black coffee in his hands. "Haven't left campus yet. Been in there all night."

"Are you going home yet?" Marth asked, wincing due to complete empathy. He himself was not unfamiliar with the long experiments and late nights.

"Soon," the blond answered, taking a big gulp of coffee. "Once I'm alert enough to drive back."

Checking his watch, Marth began to straighten out his materials. "Good. I have to go to class."

"Hey," Link interjected suddenly, causing Marth to pause halfway out of his seat. "I think… we're out of food… right?"

Marth felt the corners of his mouth quirk upward. His roommate's eyes still looked hazy. Poor guy needed some serious REM cycles. "Yeah. I'll take care of it."

As his roommate packed up, Link realized he was out of coffee. Approaching the counter, he noticed the cashier's distracted eyes charting his roommate's departure.

* * *

When an undergraduate worked as long as he did, the university demanded a half hour break every four hours. Ike wasn't one to complain, so at around eleven, he dutifully took his break.

He was nursing a self-made cup of tea, mechanically taking a sip every minute. Ew. How people drank this was above him.

Geez. What an uneventful Friday. He hoped Roy would drop by soon. He needed to copy notes.

Resting his chin in his palm, he let his sight meander through the coffeehouse and out the tinted windows.

Sitting out in the patio among the scattered tables and chairs was the student who came in only on Friday mornings for tea. The one who looked somewhat delicate, so much that Ike always felt compelled to warn him about the drink's temperature.

"Hey, what's so interesting?" A hand waved before his eyes, and Roy grinned at his dumbfounded expression.

Ike focused on his friend, but found himself looking back outside sporadically. He was just trying to figure out what made the other student look so… nice? "Uh… nothing really."

"Just for you, I actually _went _to class," Roy joked, dropping into a chair beside him and pulling out the lecture supplement. "Least you could do is tell me what was holding your attention."

"It's…" He wasn't embarrassed. Just… hesitant to own up to his inexplicable interest for some random college student. "That guy. Always studying."

"Guy?" Roy followed his line of sight and tilted to get a better angle for appraisal. "You sure?"

"I make his drink every Friday morning—of course, I'm sure!" Ike retorted, inwardly triumphant that he had enough experience with the other student to know.

"Kind of hard to believe," the redhead mused, trying to discreetly get closer to get a better look, before suddenly pausing. "This isn't healthy, is it?"

Ike took a lukewarm swallow of tea. "What is?"

His friend sat back and laughed. "Being attracted to this guy."

Tea went down the wrong pipe. Ike indulged in a coughing fit. "_What?_" He rasped, throat raw, when he recovered. "I'm not… _what?_"

"Well, he's… kind of pretty," Roy pointed out, with a knowing smile in his direction. It was scary how his friend picked out those details almost immediately.

"So, uh…" Ike shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah. About those notes…"

* * *

"Thanks for meeting with me." The small brunet set down his notebook. "This professor is just… _agh._"

Marth nodded slightly that implied a tacit understanding to what the young student was referring to. The professor for this class avoided all students (and would probably avoid the teaching assistants too, if not for job obligation).

"I'm sorry for the sudden email," the other continued, as if not having even uttered any frustration about the professor. "I'm Pit, one of the unfortunate tutors for this class."

When Pit's hand extended toward him, Marth met it midway for a handshake. "Marth. It's nice to meet you," the TA replied politely in return.

The tutor smiled brightly before letting go of his hand and taking a seat adjacent to him. "Again, sorry for emailing you when we haven't even met yet."

Marth waved off the apology. "It's fine." He began to dismantle the models of cyclohexane that he had made for the students that came to see him during office hours.

Pit smiled, looking a little mischievous for his innocent, too-good-of-a-student appearance. "You're too nice, letting your kids give out your information like that."

"Kids?" Marth echoed, amusement evident in his voice. "What year are you?"

"Second," was the brunette's nonchalant answer, although there was a hint of pride in his expression. "I hope you don't mind me using you shamelessly to answer my questions."

"Of course not. Go right ahead." Marth slightly smiled, and hoped he was successfully hiding the fact that the younger student's energy level was somewhat contagious. Somehow, Marth knew he couldn't pull off being that lively.

"Hey, did you know your kids went inside to do _more _chemistry?" Pit gestured at the coffeehouse's door, "That's some dedication."

"Really," Marth rhetorically questioned, glancing towards the building. "That's good…"

"That's cute," Pit suddenly laughed, flipping open his book. "Real cute."

"… What is?" The TA asked hesitantly, a wave of uncertainty washing over him.

Grinning like he had discovered a well-hidden secret, the young tutor unclipped his mechanical pencil that served as a bookmark. "Nothing."

Those eyes said something. Marth gave the other a disapproving stare. "What is it?"

"It's just…" Pit acquiesced too easily, "…you _actually_ smiled when I mentioned your students."

Oh. He didn't know how to respond to that.

* * *

_-Bread –Milk –Eggs –Pasta –Peanut butter…_

Ike pulled the grocery list off the refrigerator. He had almost forgot it was his turn, but a note from his apartment-mate reminded him. He didn't see the guy around much, and truthfully, Ike didn't know what the senior was involved in (maybe graduate school applications?).

All in all, Sheik had a schedule that was incomprehensible to Ike (and a personality to match).

Twenty minutes later, at the back of the supermarket that felt ten degree colder, Ike stood before the display of dairy products with a frown. He could have sworn prices had increased. Damn inflation.

Through his peripheral view, he noticed a shopper on a cell phone carefully maneuvering a shopping cart with one hand.

"—I forgot. So what is it…?" the stranger was speaking in a very even tone, before a tinge of exasperation entered his voice. "Oh. 'The fat kind.' I see, and…"

The junior quickly glanced behind him toward the conversation (much more interesting than milk), and immediately tensed. _Him. _The one person who, for no obvious reason, managed to hold his interest. This situation just made everything all the _weirder._

The shopping cart stopped beside him, and the other student looked up long enough for Ike to notice the slight widening of eyes. Perhaps it was due to recognition, but then:

"You want _what?_" The smaller man's eyes narrowed. "Link, that makes _ten _servings. I refuse. Go back to sleep."

When the other hung up, dread was creeping down Ike's spine. He didn't know what was so nerve-wracking about this, except that it _was._

It wasn't until he noticed the other student reaching for a two-gallon pack of milk that his senses returned.

"Here, I got it." In one easy motion, Ike transferred the load to the shopping cart.

The young man's initial surprised expression melted into a well-mannered smile. "Thank you." Two seconds, a head tilt, and a thoughtful look later, the other student added, "Ike."

Although his heart oddly skipped a beat, he had to grin. That was some recollection skills. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

"You haven't changed yet." A graceful hand reached out to tap his nametag. "Anyway, have a good weekend."

Well, shit. He just hoped he wasn't turning red. Seconds after receiving a parting wave, Ike palmed himself in the head.

What the hell was _that?_

* * *

As Marth toed off his shoes, he noticed another familiar pair stacked neatly among the scattered shoe pile. The thousand-paged textbook on the living room table full of medical jargon only strengthened his suspicion.

"Marth?" A female figure appeared from the dark recess of his room.

"Hi, Zelda," he greeted, settling the groceries on the kitchen table and sorting through a dozen plastic bags. "It's been a while."

She ambled over to help. "You know how it is." Out of one bag, she pulled out some chicken and hefted the weight in her hands. "That's sweet. You got Link his ingredients."

Marth shrugged. "I like to keep him happy." He opened the refrigerator and began to restock the emptying shelves.

"… and that means catering to his cooking sprees," Zelda concluded with a fond smile, handing him the thawing meat.

"We sleep in the same room. He could kill me if he really wanted to," Marth explained with a deadpan expression.

The female medical student laughed. "Oh, Marth."

He hummed in response, and quickly finished his task of food straightening. Straightening from his bent position, he pushed his bangs away from his eyes. "So what are you up to?"

The blonde interlocked her fingers and stretched them above her head. "Using Link's computer."

"Anything interesting?" The graduate student cleared the table of plastic bags.

Shaking her head, Zelda settled onto the couch and tucked her legs beneath her. "Recipes. Mm, and instant messaging with Sheik." She paused and a contemplative look crossed her face.

"What's your brother doing now?" He asked curiously.

There was a delicate lift in her shoulders, before she softly sighed. "Waiting for graduation, I suppose."

Not knowing how to respond, Marth hesitantly replied with the first thought that came to mind. "That's… surprising."

"It's not, well, I'm sure he's planning _something_," Zelda reassured with a heavy dose of sisterly faith. "I haven't the clue though."

The concerned body language in his friend was unusual, and Marth gave the young woman's shoulder a light pat. "Just think—if he _doesn't_ have any plans, you can baby him until he does."

Her lips curved upward. "You never cease to humor me, Marth." She then glanced forlornly toward the kitchen. "I would cook if I weren't so scared of Link's wrath when he wakes up."

* * *

"_So you know how chemistry is killing me, right?'_" Roy sounded somewhat out of breath, which wasn't out of the ordinary. His friend tended to call when walking back home to the dorms, and the redhead wasn't one to walk slowly.

"Uh huh," Ike absently agreed into the phone. He still found himself wincing when he thought back to his encounter in the supermarket. He thought his bed would help—it didn't.

"_Yeah, so my tutor suggested that I should try studying with other people."_

Ike closed his eyes and tried to listen more carefully to what Roy was saying. Distraction, that's what he needed. "Sounds practical."

"_As if going to lecture, discussion, and tutoring isn't already overkill,_" Roy huffed indignantly. "_Hey, you think that pretty boy would study with me?"_

Ike shot up into a sitting position so fast that his head swam painfully. "W-what?" He rubbed his temples to try to alleviate some of the sudden pressure. "How do—"

"—_I can recognize that damn chem book anywhere now._" Somehow Roy didn't sound too pleased about his newfound abilities. "_Besides, the molecular kit was a dead giveaway. My tutor carries that thing everywhere too."_

Ike frowned to himself. Goddamnit. He was going to need professional help soon if he couldn't figure out why he was acting like this.

"_Geez, you okay?"_ Roy asked apprehensively. "_Distracted, much?"_

The junior straightened from his defeated slouch. Wait, Roy was one of the most observant people that he was fortunate enough to be close friends with. His pride just needed to be thrown out of the window.

He swallowed, and tried to reverse the tightening in his throat. "Hey, you know how I was staring at that guy today?"

"_No shit._" Roy's pleasant reply in a crude manner was ignored.

"I think I do it _a lot_," He admitted, his eyes darting down to study the threads on his bedspread. "It's weird."

"_That's okay. Just means he's attractive. What's weird?_"

Roy had yet to understand the gravity of his symptoms. Ike gripped the phone a little tighter. "I couldn't think properly enough to talk to him at the supermarket today."

There was silence on the other line. For once, Roy didn't have a quick comeback.

"_Wow, Ike."_ There was a (disturbing) hint of awe in the other's voice. "_Shit."_

Yeah. He thought so too.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**__ Feedback on characters, plot, and writing is greatly appreciated! Thank you!_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Notes: **__Thank you for the reviews! I'm overseas, so updating might be a little slow for a while!_

_**Warnings: **__Yaoi, shounen-ai, slash, whatever you call it. Oh, and cursing._

_**Pairing(s): **__IkeMarth. Others will depend on the story's progress and your suggestions._

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Super Smash Brothers._

_**Summary: **__Teaching assistants, hours at the coffeehouse, graduate programs, undergraduate tutoring, medical students… no one ever thought there was more to college than academics and work._

* * *

Mechanism

By SSBBSwords

* * *

"…And at three o'clock, they put out new pastries," the blond informed conversationally, walking into the coffeehouse.

Having glanced upward to confirm incoming customers, Ike then dropped a muffin sideways on its croissant relatives.

"Proof that you are spending way too much time here," the blue-haired student retorted, having followed a couple steps behind, much less enthused about having to deviate from his routine.

Ike checked the time. Afternoon. On a Wednesday. _What?_ And why was he accompanying a _blond_, of all things—uh, people.

He looked nice today. Or, perhaps, he looked nice relative to Wednesday afternoons (so as to be independent in comparison to Fridays). Ike fixed the lopsided muffin in its place and eyed the other's neat appearance and—

"Excuse me."

Oh, fuck! The muffin dropped off the second level in the display case and, with a bounce, hit his apron onto the first level.

The blond had the nerve to look very entertained. "Double-shot espresso."

_I'll give you two shots_, Ike thought immediately, irritated, and punched the buttons on the machine a little harder than necessary. Leaving the cup under to catch the flow, he turned to take the other student's order.

"Ike, how are you?"

The junior felt a disturbing urge to melt right then and there. Restraining himself, he felt his mood lighten considerably. "Good…" He didn't know how much he could say without doing something stupid and uncool. Great. He had reverted back to middle-school mentality. "What can I get you?"

This took some considering on the other's part. "That muffin." This was emphasized with a tap on the pastry case's glass.

Reaching for one in the recently organized second level, Ike was surprised when the shorter student shook his head and reiterated, "The delinquent one."

Wordlessly, Ike dropped the specific muffin into a paper bag. No, he didn't think the guy was cute. Not in the least. Just…

Noticing the stream of coffee from the machine ceasing, the blond turned to his companion and chuckled. "You are so weird."

Well, weird wouldn't have been Ike's exact description, but…

The blue-haired young man shrugged. "It looked out of place."

… endearing? What the fuck was wrong with him? Ike absently capped the blond's drink and rung up the purchases.

"Thanks."

When the two departed, Ike returned to his task of stacking fresh pastries. A minute later, the blond returned to the counter as if having forgotten something.

"Looking for something?" the undergraduate asked dryly, not questioning his distaste for this person.

"Not exactly," Link replied cryptically. "By the way, is there something interesting about my roommate?"

Caught? Ike swallowed nervously. "Who?"

"The guy you keep staring at," the blond detailed more precisely, all while smiling good-naturedly.

"I…" the junior hesitated. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Link's eyes narrowed, all cordiality deserting his expression. "Well, stop it. It's creepy."

Ike froze in shock, and, with another intimidating gaze, the older student turned around and left as smoothly as he had entered.

Shit. Why did a chill run down his spine just now?

* * *

"Hey."

His writing hand paused in mid-equation, and Marth looked up from the chemistry textbook in order to pinpoint the unfamiliar voice. His eyes landed first on the matching book held carelessly in the stranger's grip.

"Hello," Marth finally replied after scrutinizing the other student's red hair. "Can I help you?"

The undergraduate ran a free hand through his fiery strands, further mussing the mop of spikes. "Yeah, actually, you're in the same chem as me, right?"

The question sounded a little off, and Marth's left eyebrow lifted a centimeter. "Yes…" Technically speaking.

A smile spread across the teenager's face. "Perfect!" the redhead looked cheerful, and then the rest of his words came in an unexpected flash. "Can we study together?"

Marth blinked in disbelief. "Ah… I believe…"

"By the way, name's Roy. What's yours?"

The graduate student set down his pen and tried to understand what exactly was happening. Obviously, this poor student had made a miscalculation on his age (and academic standing).

"Marth," he answered automatically, ignoring Roy's interjection of '_That's a cool name,'_ and continued in a softer tone, "Roy, I believe there's a small mistake."

The shorter student's expression darkened as a frown marred his previously cheerful features. "Okay, just 'cause I _look _dumb doesn't mean I am. What a—"

This time, Marth interrupted him, keeping his voice even and calm. "No, it's not that. I attend your chem lectures, true, and I may look like I'm studying the material, but I'm actually just preparing for my discussion sections."

Roy's face blanked for a couple seconds as if the cognitive procedure went awry and resulted in brainwashing. Then his eyebrows knitted in bemusement. "You lost me. I don't get it."

"I'm one of the TAs for your chemistry course."

It took about half a minute for the information to sink, and then it dawned on Roy, who unceremoniously gaped at Marth. "_What? _That makes you…"

"A graduate student," Marth supplied helpfully.

"_Old!"_

Marth's eyes widened comically. Eh? He tried to remember how he considered his TAs when he was an undergraduate. Did he think they were _old_ too? "That's one way to put it… I guess."

"No! I mean, not that you look it, or… I mean, obviously you don't, but… oh, fuck," Roy rambled, half to Marth and half to himself, hence the unabashed curse word. "H-how old are you?" The redhead asked timidly.

For some reason, Marth didn't want to disclose his age. Nevertheless, he had a bad habit (damn you, teaching experience) of honestly answering any question thrown his way. "Twenty-five."

"That's not old," Roy actively contradicted himself, but given the stressful look on the younger student's face, Marth decided it wasn't worth pursuing the matter, so he simply shrugged in return.

"Sorry for disillusioning you."

"It's okay." The second year grew a little more red and backed up a couple of steps. "Uh, I have to go… uh, see you around."

Marth watched the teenager rush off and turned back to his work. That couldn't have been _that _embarrassing, right? Strange.

* * *

Ike didn't know if he liked or hated Fridays anymore.

He used to be apathetic to the last weekday until the pattern of staring at a certain someone developed. Unnoticed, Fridays then were pleasant until he realized that staring was an abnormal reaction to a certain someone.

Now, Fridays caused a little too much anxiety. So, he supposed Fridays weren't too good for him.

"Good morning."

Ike was plugging in the hot water machine when the greeting was softly sent his way. Heck, he had fifteen minutes before the coffeehouse officially opened. What the hel—his mind blanked when he turned to face the early-morning perpetrator.

"I hope you don't mind," the blue-haired student continued, staring passively at the recently stocked shelves. "The door was unlocked."

His mouth went a little drier than expected. "I… it's fine." He ducked back and decided to busy himself by filling the machine with water. Stay focused. He had a job to do, a manager to please, and an obsession to impres_saywhat?_

His hand jerked, and the liquid sloshed innocently around the edges of the boiler. "Shit…" That would have been messy.

The other student was staring at him strangely, most likely questioning his competence or sanity. "Are you sure it's not too early?"

He slammed the lid shut on the boiler, and it hissed in contempt. Ike turned back and smiled, wracking his brain in order to formulate a coherent, flowing conversation. "Yeah, uh…" He paused. Wow. Really. He was asking too much of himself. "What can I get you?"

"The usual." The shorter student didn't miss a beat, answering the mechanical question with an equally mechanical answer.

"… Right." Ike turned immediately to complete the other's request, but realized the timing was all wrong. "It'll be a few minutes," he finished lamely. Or maybe more. After all, a watched pot never boils. "Uhm… you're early today."

That earned him a subtle smile, and Ike was inwardly congratulating himself. Then the other answered, "I worked late."

"All night?" The junior blurted out, shamelessly studying the other student for signs of fatigue. Slightly blood shot eyes, hair a little messier… "What do you do?"

A small shrug accompanied a short answer. "Lab work. I was a little behind."

_A little? _Ike couldn't fathom how much 'a lot' would therefore be. "Sounds… exhilarating." He was struggling for words. Never the wittiest of the bunch, he was floundering like a fish out of water.

"Doesn't it?" The question came out more like a statement, but the upward curve of the other's lips indicated a mutual understanding.

Ike was _trying _to keep his eyes off and focus on something more productive, but he always ended up (probably very obviously) staring at the other student. Shit, this was so—

"Is there something on my face?"

-_not good! _The undergraduate froze, conveniently having locked gazes and inconveniently losing most of his dignity when his expression looked like a deer's when caught in front of headlights.

Jerking in order to unlock his body from its stiff state, Ike shook his head to negate the past two minutes. "N-no…?" How convincing was that? He tried again. "It's not… like that."

The other's neutral expression melted into something akin to confusion. "What is it?"

It took a few seconds for Ike to realize that he had just dug himself into a bigger hole. Fuck! "It's—" _that I can't keep my fucking eyes off of you for two fucking seconds?_ That was a little profane. The frustration was obviously taking its toll.

The water boiler's light turned green. Oh, nice. Ike fumbled with the tea bag and the cup. He wasn't built to think under such extreme pressure. "You look really tired," he finally answered, keeping his eyes locked on his task of steeping tea.

The student across the counter simply shifted his weight, choosing to now lean against the edge. "I see."

"Here…" Ike handed the cup to the young man, unsure of what to say next. "Uhm… you know, if you take a nap here, I'll watch your stuff." The only thing he was certain about was that he wasn't getting his message across. "I mean, you study enough as it is."

Slender fingers wrapped around the cup, taking a moment to pop the lid off. "Thanks, I just might if this doesn't kick in."

"Wait, it's really hot…" Ike blurted out as the other's lips came dangerously close to the scalding drink.

The other student blew a gentle breath out instead, causing ripples across the liquid surface, but retreated without taking a sip. "Thanks for the warning. Oh." Realization flashed in the other's eyes suddenly. "Credit card works here, right?"

Nodding an affirmative and taking the proffered card from the shorter man, Ike felt some awkwardness leave his body as he typed in an access code, silently running '_Marth Lowell'_ through his mind like a mantra.

"You look pretty out of it," Ike commented with genuine concern, handing the card back. "Don't go to class."

A slight pause in conversation. Then a shrug from the shorter student. "I have to." Ike wasn't offered any more explanation. "Ike, if I fall asleep, wake me up fifteen minutes to eight."

"… Sure."

_Marth. _He had a name. Finally.

* * *

As he closed the door behind himself, Marth watched his roommate wander out of their room languidly.

"How was your day?" Link asked, one hand snagging the second to last bottle of water. As if getting a cup and drinking filtered water was too much of an inconvenience. "Just kidding." Interject evil smirk here. "How was your past two days?"

Tempted to blurt out a curse, Marth settled with a shrug and discreet eye roll. "Is a quiet Friday evening too much to ask for?"

The blond looked affronted, exaggerating the emotion by placing his free hand on his chest. "Are you suggesting that _I'm _bothering you?"

Marth sighed softly. "I should sleep."

Link's expression turned serious. "What's stopping you?"

He slowly blinked in response, considering the state of his body. Tired, achy, but still somewhat awake. "I guess I had too much caffeine."

The look on the other's face spoke something in the lines of _'Is that possible?'_ Either way, Link sat up straighter, like an attentive student who sits front and center. "Did you go to the coffeehouse today too?"

"Yes…" Marth glanced at his roommate quickly. What a random question. He took the last bottle of water from the cardboard box. Might as well if they had to go buy more as soon as possible, right?

"You know the blue-haired guy who works there?" Link waved his hand above his head to indicate the said person's height. "Tall? Kind of big."

Marth broke the plastic seal and took a sip of water. He felt very compelled to ask Link at what he was hinting. "…Ike?"

The blond nodded, unnecessarily lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Notice anything weird about the guy?"

Well, he had enough of this, really. "… Link, how old are you again?"

His roommate looked hurt. Kind of _genuinely _hurt. "Seriously, Marth."

The blue-haired graduate student stifled a sigh. Well, if it was really _that _important… "Ike is very nice."

"Oh." Link looked thoughtfully across his shoulder, eyes not really focused on any specific target.

Marth narrowed his eyes. This seemed to be happening to him a lot—people saying seemingly arbitrary things and then withholding information. "What are you not telling me?"

The blond shrugged carelessly, though there was worry in his eyes. "You really haven't noticed _anything?_"

There was something worth his attention if Link was acting like this. "Tell me." Marth firmly set down his water, senses sharpening in preparation of his roommate's response.

"Well, he stares at you."

What was that supposed to mean? Marth wasn't sure how he should be acting. His facial expression remained blank. "I don't get it." Well, he _was _being truthful.

Frowning, Link ran a hand through golden strands. "It's like… intense. His eyes track your movements."

"I… haven't noticed," Marth replied, somewhat doubtful but mostly disbelieving. Link's account seemed impossible and inexplicable.

"I think he _likes _you." Just like that, with a dead serious expression, Link blurted out, obviously worried about his roommate's reaction (or lack thereof).

For once, Marth's eyes widened in pure shock. "Excuse me, _what?_" He shook his head, very much flustered. "That's… I can't believe… did you just… _what?_"

Link shrugged helplessly. "I don't see why else he would look at you like that."

"Boredom, maybe?" Marth offered, knowing he had probably turned pink, and stood up to retreat to the bedroom. This had to be one of the most embarrassing conversations that he had ever had.

"Whatever. I'm just… putting it out there," his roommate mumbled half-heartedly, playing with the paper label around his bottle of water, "since you're obviously oblivious."

Marth only managed to murmur in response before shutting the bedroom door behind him in an attempt to hide from the awkwardness.

* * *

"Roy, are you okay?"

The sophomore looked up from his notebook, in which his pencil had dragged a random squiggle through blank blue lines. His tutor nonchalantly began to erase the whiteboard, full of chemistry rubbish.

"Yeah, why do you ask?" Roy hastily closed his book to hide the blank pages.

"Just a guess." Pit smiled brightly. "Do you need to borrow my notes?"

Caught red-handed. Roy sputtered indignantly, "I—well, it's not…okay, wait…" He hit himself a couple of times in the head. "Eer, yes, please?"

The brunet slid over his papers and continued to erase the whiteboard. "So what's going on?"

Roy guiltily began to copy down his tutor's notes. "Uh… well, it's… this person. No, it's my friend. This _person_ that my friend likes… he's…" Roy was inwardly blanching. Could this sound any more stupid? "Twenty-five… not that that's _old_ but… but… uhm… uh…"

Pit had the decency to look puzzled. "This preoccupies you because…"

"My friend's twenty!" The redhead was having extreme difficulty voicing his concerns. His thoughts weren't turning into words.

"So the five-year difference is bothering you?"

"No! It's… I don't know… _telling _him." Roy was losing track of how he was referring to each person. "It's _weird._"

"Who are you telling?" Pit's perplexed expression deepened. Roy's pronouns were overlapping like no other.

"My friend." Roy hadn't realized his slip up. "Uh… never mind… it's really messed up, honestly. It's just… my friend really likes the guy, and if I liked an older person and I was… uh… you know, I don't know what's going on." Roy stopped himself when he finally realized what was making him so uncomfortable.

Pit simply murmured reassuringly, packing up his materials, "It'll be fine."

The redhead bit his lip, but didn't return the sentiment.

* * *

_**Author's Notes: **Please review! It makes me so happy to know that you've kept reading!_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's Notes: **__Thank you so much for the reviews! I'm back, but busier than before, so I apologize for future lagging updates. Really, college just eats your free time._

_**Warnings: **__Yaoi, shounen-ai, slash, whatever you call it. Cursing._

_**Pairing(s): **__IkeMarth. Others will depend on the story's progress and your observations._

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Super Smash Brothers. Really. I don't even have a Wii._

_**Summary: **__Teaching assistants, hours at the coffeehouse, graduate programs, undergraduate tutoring, medical students… no one ever thought there was more to college than academics and work._

* * *

Mechanism

By SSBBSwords

* * *

"Hey."

Ike's eyes averted from staring through the window and landed on his friend who slid into the seat before him.

"I have something to tell you." Roy looked grim, appearing much too serious for a typical college sophomore whose biggest preoccupation was passing general chemistry.

"Okay…" For some reason, his small breaks during work weren't as relaxing as they used to be. The junior attributed this change to Roy continually dropping disastrous epiphanies left and right.

Roy inhaled slowly as if steeling himself for being the unfortunate messenger. "Ike. You can _not _like this guy."

If Ike had been drinking anything, he would have promptly spat the mouthful out. Déjà vu. However, he did have to set his cup of water down or else it would have spilled. "_What?"_

Roy leaned forward, his voice lowering as his eyes darted from side to side to ascertain secure surroundings. "You're my best friend, and I can't—"

"—I don't _like _him," Ike hissed in an equally restrained voice, extremely incredulous that Roy had even brought up this… assumption.

"Huh?" The redhead's eyes grew large with confusion (and probably disbelief).

"Don't…" Ike was having a difficult time formulating his argument, whatever it was. He had considered this before, but he couldn't rationalize his obsession. In practical reasons, that is. It _had_ to be temporary. "… Don't make it out to be a… _crush_ or something." That made it sound all the worse. He figured that by this age, he would have acquired _some _level of maturity.

True to his unrestricted personality, Roy's next sentence came out in rushed urgency. "Are you listening to yourself? We both know it _is."_

"I'm not—" Ike laced a frustrated hand through his hair and tugged at blue spikes. "I don't _like _him like that."

The sophomore narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You aren't denying it due to unconventionality?"

"N-_No. _Fuck, no!" his negation came out a little too defensive, a little too threatened. "Stop jumping to conclusions."

"So you really don't like him." Roy didn't look convinced. It wasn't a very convincing act, after all. "Then about…"

Ike knew there was incriminating evidence, and his short-circuiting neurons weren't creating any plausible excuse. Or maybe he could use that as an excuse. "You always said I was socially retarded."

His friend paused and mulled over his statement. "Sounds like something I would say," Roy finally concluded after a moment of mentally clearing up discrepancies with this explanation. "Well then, I don't have anything to tell you anymore." The familiar cheerful grin reappeared on the sophomore's face. "Awesome. Great!"

"Yeah…" Ike was so relieved that the conversation was over that he did not notice that his friend's serious concern had been left unsaid.

"Hey, so did your apartment-mate give the okay for Friday?" the redhead asked eagerly, all traces of worry absent.

Ike blankly searched his mental calendar. What was happening on Friday again? Oh, right. Early celebration of his birthday. Fuck. He should have remembered. No, correction. He should have been counting down the hours.

It wasn't normal for a college male to feel so apathetic to a night full of alcohol.

"He's fine with it, since he has a lock on his door and we'll be cleaning up," Ike finally answered with a shrug.

Trying to be practical, Roy pointed out with large, don't-blame-me eyes, "We won't be in the best shape for 'cleaning up.' You know that, right?"

Ike smirked knowingly because Roy's statement was really only _half _true. "_You _won't be, but that doesn't mean you can get out of the responsibility, hangover or not."

The second year frowned and crossed his arms. "You are officially the worst best friend a guy could have."

Ike couldn't stop the short laugh that escaped and, honestly, Roy was just setting himself up to be teased to the brink insanity (payback's a bitch, Ike mentally noted). "You say otherwise after four shots."

The second year actually turned a little red on that comment. "_Shut up. _I'm not this huge _mass _like you are."

"—Taller and more built, you mean?" The junior interjected with his careless, boyish charm (that was really just wasted on Roy).

"I swear," the redhead continued with a glare and a challenging tone, "my tolerance is higher nowadays."

"Five shots then." Ike charitably changed the quantity with innocent objectivity.

Roy huffed and stood up. "Oh, just shut the hell up and have your love tryst with a pretty boy."

"_Hey!_"

* * *

Sometimes Marth thought that he frequented the patio so much, he practically lived there. Then again, it was literally the midpoint of the campus, conveniently neighbors to the coffee shop and conglomeration of fast food chains.

For the first time in ten minutes, Link paused with a fork halfway to its destination long enough to say, "So Zelda is free on Friday. Want to go out and do something?"

Surprised, Marth nodded but couldn't help his curiosity. "What's the occasion?"

"Who knows," Link scoffed. "All med schools can kiss my…" The blond trailed off when his gaze wandered behind his roommate and locked on a pair of widened brown eyes, which blinked twice in response.

As if he wasn't caught saying something sacrilegious, Link grinned cheerfully. "Hi, short stuff. Can I help you?"

"Hi…"

Marth turned partway in his seat toward the familiar voice. The brunet that came into view looked a little intimidated. "Hey, Pit. Did you eat yet? If not, would you like to eat with us?" Yes, this was damage control. Link had a track record of disillusioning young undergraduates. Not with ill intentions, of course.

"It's okay, thanks," Pit turned down the invitation politely. "One of my kids asked me about this problem." The sophomore handed over a dog-eared copy of a practice exam. "And I couldn't get to the correct answer either."

Marth had barely glanced down when his roommate stole the packet. With a straw stuck between his lips, Link skimmed the problem and then the tutor's work with a look of extreme interest. "Oh, hey! I wrote this! Last year spring, right? Yeah, good times…"

"Really?" Suddenly there was newfound respect in the sophomore's eyes and Pit perked up, his typical enthusiasm reappearing. "How—"

Link's chuckling interrupted the undergraduate's question. "Shit, I remember making this one… hey, Marth! Remember last year when I had that really crap-ass week and deci—"

Marth knew this was coming and gave his roommate a glare. He was silently hoping the blond would get hint: shut up about the crazy not-really-substance-abuse-okay-maybe stories. "-Decided not to use a periodic table when you wrote this?" Marth filled in for his friend with a sweet but chilly smile. "Yes, I remember."

The blond looked about ready to pout before changing his mind. With a dismissive wave of a hand, Link shrugged off the tacit warning and handed the exam back to Pit. "Sorry 'bout that. I mixed up elements halfway through because, for the oddest reason, all the R's looked like B's and the numbers were danc—"

Marth could tell exactly what gears were turning in Pit's head just by the look in those brown eyes: _Drunk or high? Sounds like high to me…_

"Next time, remember to wear your glasses," Marth interrupted again. "Pit, I don't suppose this answered your question, did it?"

The second year tutor blinked as if clearing out the extra junk in his mind. "Actually... I think it did." Marth pointedly ignored Link's triumphant _I-win_ look. Pit glanced between the two graduate students with a higher level of uncertainty than before. "Uh, one more thing…"

"Shoot," Link generously offered, stabbing his lunch with renewed vigor. Marth simply shrugged: it really took too much energy to try to reign in Link's dynamic personality.

Pit's expression was surprisingly solemn, but the undergraduate's next question had Link choking on his meal. "When your student confides something to you 'hypothetically,' does that mean it's actually… well, that person? Like… it's actually not hypothetical at all?"

Marth took the precious minute that his roommate spent coughing into a napkin to answer Pit's questions himself. "You can never assume that, but if you are worried, stay observant and offer your support until you _do _figure it out. And make sure you're… absolutely positive."

The brunet considered this and then smiled that 100-watt smile of his. "Wow, thanks. I knew I could count on you."

Link chose this moment to recover and after composing himself exclaimed with genuine sentiment, "Shit, I'm loving this kid. How come I never got any like this? Hey, you tutoring next quarter too?"

Pit answered uneasily, "Y-yes…"

"Fantastic! I'll make questions so hard, you'll just _have _to hang out with me all the time to get the answers!"

Marth laced a hand through his own blue strands in a gesture of defeat. Pit looked understandable scared.

* * *

Ike hesitated to keep the doors unlocked that Friday morning when he started work. Why? Well, he wasn't feeling too good. To be exact, he was more troubled than he was during his conversation with Roy, more anxious than he was last week, and a lot more tense than he had been all quarter.

Once he had all the machines running properly, he made a cup of tea in boredom, dunking the bag in and out and watching the hot water stain. Huh. Moping wasn't so bad once in a while.

It wasn't that he was caught in a downward spiral of self-loathing or anything equally unnecessary (or at least to that level), it simply was that between meetings, per se, things came into perspective. Realistic perspective. Like he had said before, he didn't like Marth like that. It was just—

As if on cue, the door was pushed open cautiously by the familiar slender figure, who scanned the empty area.

"Marth, you're early again." Ike straightened from his slouched position, surprised to say the least that his muddled thoughts and metaphorical weight on his shoulders vanished.

"Last week was nice." Marth shrugged lightly as to explain himself. "Waking up a little earlier never hurts."

"Only if you have a set bedtime before midnight," the junior replied with a grimace. What normal college student slept before midnight? "So you're a morning person."

The smaller student laughed softly. "Just like you."

Ike's mood brightened, as did his expression, which adopted his trademark morning grin that Marth had been referring to. "What, this?" Ike's smile practically turned into a smirk in one second. "I'm an all-day person. Wake me up at four in the morning and I'll be happy to see you."

As if just waking up, his mind jolted in realization and the enjoyment factor on Ike's face dropped straight off. What the _hell_ did he just say (or imply in more ways than one)? Fuck you, Freud!

Fortunately, it seemed that Marth's mind wasn't contaminated like his was. That, or the other student was simply unmoved by these types of statements. Not that Ike had meant it like that!

"Your tea?" Marth had smoothly changed the subject with a slight gesture to the gently steaming cup of tea in front of Ike.

Having long forgotten about the thing, Ike looked down and wanted to shudder. Why did he keep doing this to himself? Tea wasn't his preferred beverage. "Er, not really." He chuckled sheepishly. "You always like drinking it, so I keep thinking it might be good."

"You don't look like a tea person," Marth understood and agreed matter-of-factly. "So, mine?"

"Yours, and it's probably drinkable now." Ike moved the cup a few inches closer to the other student, and after watching Marth fumble through a section of his backpack, the undergraduate added, "Honestly, you've overspent enough on this tea thing. I think I'm going to stop charging you."

One hand still groping into the unknown recesses of his backpack, Marth raised an eyebrow at the other's remark. "If that doesn't get you in trouble with management, my faith in the system just plummeted."

"I'll just stop trying to drink it during my break. Both sides win," Ike rationalized easily. Really. It was all so simple.

Marth zipped up his backpack and swung it over one shoulder in a fluid movement before commenting nonchalantly with a wry smile, "Now I'll be forever indebted to you."

Ike had to snort. How fitting. The one person left in this generation with manners just had to be this guy. "Yes, and in exchange for these three dollars, I demand you do my laundry for a week." He was kind of surprised that his wit wasn't all that dull.

Unable to stop the laugh that rose in his throat, Marth almost spilled the tea over his own hand. "Not sexual favors? I'm somewhat impressed."

Where did _that _come from? Ike wasn't sure if he turned a little pink, but part of him wondered why he hadn't jumped to that joke first. Something about not wanting to scare the other student away, maybe? "Please. Do I look like that type? I mean… maybe for three-fifty…"

Marth was smiling, and it wasn't the polite, helpful smile that usually was there. It was a little brighter, and little _happier_, and Ike trailed off as his mind blissfully blanked and he just _stared._

The graduate student chuckled and took a sip of tea. "It's good to know that my roommate is the only perverted friend I have. I asked him to go grocery shopping once when I knew I would be busy and he demanded my virginity."

Ike's stomach tightened unpleasantly while his brain screamed for him to calm down—honestly, it was just a joke! But that still didn't stop his physiological reactions to the statement.

Just thinking of that _roommate_ made him apprehensive. Ike swallowed and just hoped he wasn't acting strangely when he gave a short laugh and replied, "Worth two-gallons of milk, huh?"

"Something like that." It was then that Marth jumped a little as his phone rang. Staring at the caller ID, Marth murmured with amusement, "Speak of the devil…"

Ike didn't know why he heard alarm bells go off or felt extremely compelled to distract the other, but he succumbed and tried anyway. Clasping one hand on top of the other's hand (effectively trapping the phone and incidentally hitting the silence button), Ike asked, "Hey, what are you doing tonight?"

The smaller student looked up, surprise very much evident, but it was dismissed without a second thought. Ike realized with a warm sort of feeling that maybe they really were friends.

"That's probably why my roommate called," Marth answered truthfully.

"My friends wanted to celebrate my twenty-first birthday," Ike blurted out, feeling somewhat lucky that he had intervened with the phone call. "You should come. 632 Manor, behind the grad apartments."

Tilting his head, Marth considered this little bit of information. That meant alcohol and minors. Not entirely his preferred scene. Plus, how often did Zelda get some time off? Still… Ike wasn't letting go.

Marth's smile was a little weaker. That usually happened when he had to lie.

"I'll consider it."

* * *

_**Author's Notes: **__Please review! I love opinions on character representation and plot development! Chapter 4 is underway, I promise!_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's Notes: **__Thank you so much for the reviews! Sorry for the long wait! I had trouble passing a course…_

_To El Nino1: You already had my respect as you are an amazing writer, and now, I can't believe you are reading this fic (and tolerating it… because, personally, I don't think I could stomach it). I don't like to label characters with a sexual orientation, but your last option was closest to my image of Ike._

_To readers: This is Ike's first time being attracted to someone of Marth's gender, looks, and personality as a whole (hence, Ike has trouble pinpointing why he's so focused on Marth). Having a certain sexual orientation doesn't have anything to do with Ike's thoughts or reactions… this is just the personality that I gave Ike._

_**Warnings: **__Yaoi, shounen-ai, slash, whatever you call it. OOC-ness and lack of realism… for which I apologize in advance! If I screwed up the characters, please let me know how and why (or immediately hit the back button of your browser)._

_**Pairing: **__Blatantly IkeMarth… or I try…_

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Super Smash Brothers. Even worse, I'm Brawl-less for the break._

_**Summary: **__Teaching assistants, hours at the coffeehouse, graduate programs, undergraduate tutoring, medical students… no one ever though there was more to college than academics and work._

_**Edit: **__December 16, 2008. Thank you El Nino1 for your critique! They were an incredible help to cleaning up this chapter. I am indebted to you!_

* * *

Mechanism

By SSBBSwords

* * *

Zelda's mood was atypically stormy when they met up on Friday.

"Then I find out that the asshole tore out the entire section from the book!" the medical student recounted with irritation, taking a heavy swallow of who-knows-what from her glass. "Just wait until I get my hands on _his_ notes…"

So far, Marth mentally tallied two shots and a mixed drink for his friend, which wasn't too bad for an hour and a half's worth of time at a bar. Meaning to say it would take more for Zelda to become truly drunk. Not something anyone would want, by the way.

She tilted her head and all indignation seemed to recede for the moment. "What is Link doing?"

"As if I ever know." Nevertheless, Marth glanced over his shoulder in order to follow her line of sight. Surrounded by a crowd, the blond was across the room leaning over a pool table and setting up his next shot.

Zelda laughed fondly at the scene. "Well, the high ratio of females around him has to mean something."

Marth murmured monosyllabically in agreement, turning back to reach for his drink.

"You're quiet tonight," Zelda observed, interest evident in her slightly rosy features, and she waited, clearly expecting an explanation to her open-ended statement.

Tilting his head, Marth mindlessly twisted his cup in a slow semi-circle on the counter. "Am I?"

If it weren't for her drink pressed against her lips at that time, Zelda would have laughed at his vague (and completely vacant) answer. Leave it to Marth to keep personal issues concealed even with an old friend.

"Yes," she firmly replied, making it absolutely clear in her tone that she was not going to explain herself; there was no need, really. "What's going on? Do you need more ethanol to make this process less painful?"

Marth chuckled softly. Finally. Zelda tucked a long strand of hair triumphantly behind her ear and looked away from Marth as if the wall across the bar counter was much more interesting.

"Honestly," Marth began, finger playing with the rim of his glass, "I don't know why I feel so preoccupied. Especially now of all times."

"Classes sucking? Thesis writing failing? Little undergraduates getting on your nerves about your grading?" Zelda prompted, her eyes darting to the side in order to search Marth's expression.

Marth was starting to look a little confused. "A little of everything, but that's nothing new." And even when he admitted that his life was not perfect, he could not shake off the feeling that he still had not accounted for the real reason.

"You know, Marth," Link's voice suddenly cut through the background noise as an ever familiar hand reached out and relieved Marth of his neglected drink, "We have to change your bone structure or _something_, because I almost got my ass kicked in a game because some guy wanted into your pants." The blond easily drained the cup and signaled the bartender for another. "And since you are wearing relatively normal, not-in-any-way-special pants, it must not be your clothes."

While Zelda tried to hide a highly amused laugh into the confines of her glass, Marth pressed a palm against a now-pulsing area of his head. "You mentioned I was a man, right?"

"Why does that matter?" Link breezily replied, handing a twenty to the bartender in exchange for another round for the three of them.

Satisfied that Link had covered her next drink, Zelda turned to Marth and gestured toward the blond. "Is _this _the reason?"

As Link tried to look indignant while shooting alcohol, Marth breathed a tired sigh. "Strange, but no, even this is nothing new."

Ignoring the '_See?_' from the blond, Zelda pursed her lips. "You don't even know why you're so preoccupied, Marth. That isn't healthy."

"I know why," Link supplied with a mischievous smile. "It has something to do with a missed call at seven in the morning."

Zelda raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Screening calls from a stalker, Marth?"

Marth eyed his new drink with very little interest, but opted to take a small sip and hide a grimace when the burn hit the back of his throat. "Oh, sure, if Link counts as a stalker."

Link simply grinned and leaned closer to his roommate. "I watch you through the window…"

"You sleep in the same room as me!" Marth corrected and pushed away the invasion of his private space.

"It's not enough!" The blond dramatically countered with a false tone of hurt.

Zelda laughed at their antics. "Obviously. God, I miss you guys—oh!" Her phone vibrated against the countertop. Eyes widening in surprise, Zelda flipped open the phone immediately, answering without missing a beat, "Hey, Sheik." She frowned into space and held her free hand over her other ear. "Say that again?" It seemed that the noise in the bar was finally considered too loud for this situation. After another minute of confusion, Zelda hung up with an unsettled expression.

"Sheik said something about not wanting to call an ambulance."

Link's bright eyes sparkled as he easily polished off Marth's drink (again). "Sounds exciting."

Zelda scowled and quickly gathered her belongings. "Ten dollars says I'll be doing impromptu sutures in thirty minutes."

"Ten dollars in… only dollars?" Link asked innocently as he and Marth closely followed her out the door.

* * *

When Sheik opened the apartment door, Zelda breezed in gracefully.

"Hi." She pulled her brother's scarf down slightly to kiss the other's cheek. "Where's the fire?"

"That room. Just check to make sure the comatose brat won't die." Sheik discreetly rubbed his face in response to the sign of affection. "The other guy's fine. Just drunk."

"Bad drunk?" Zelda asked in advance to prepare herself for the situation.

"No." Shiek was apathetic as usual. "Quite docile, actually. You'll like him."

"I hate drunk people," his older sister murmured to herself as she dutifully headed into the other room.

"I do too," Marth muttered, stumbling through the doorway with Link's arms locked around his neck and shoulders. "Sheik, get this off me…"

Link only laughed and tightened his handicapping grip. "This is not drunk!"

"No, you're always this annoying."

Sheik made no move to untangle the two, but when Link removed himself to go after Sheik himself, the two blonds ended up in a pile on the floor and Marth straightened himself out.

"Get off!" Sheik's low voice was muffled even more against Link's shoulder. "You reek of alcohol!"

Link snorted but sat up nonetheless, ignoring the fact that he continued to sit on the younger male. "Oh, so it's me now? All the empty bottles and cans scattered about doesn't contribute?"

Marth settled at the dining table. "This is a surprise, Sheik. You don't seem like the party type."

"I'm not." The senior propped himself up by his elbows, eyes narrowed at Link who stubbornly remained sitting on his hips. A battle of wills. However, an insistent shove at Link's shoulder had the graduate student reluctantly rising to his knees to join Marth at the table. Brushing himself off, Sheik pulled up a third chair and dropped neatly into it. "It was the roommate's party."

Link studied the post-party mess in the apartment and wistfully commented, "To be young again…"

"He's okay," a familiar voice informed, very much relieved. "Sheik, your sister's brilli—"

The preoccupation turned into an increasingly nagging feeling in Marth's head, and when he partially turned in his seat, his eyes locked on Ike's own pair in complete shock.

Ike almost dropped the half-full can of beer that he was holding. All thoughts disappeared and words evaded him. Jolting to realization that he was probably gaping like a goldfish, he shut his mouth and tried to work up some coherent greeting.

Completely missing the silent exchange, Sheik lazily leaned back in his chair and, with the ever-bored expression, gestured to Ike and nodded in Link and Marth's direction. "Guys, this is the roommate, Ike. Ike, these are my sister's friends, Link and Marth."

"We've met." Link's playful demeanor had changed into something much more aloof, the subtle shift in tone and body language inwardly surprising both Sheik and Marth. "Small world."

"I… uhm…" Ike swallowed, only to realize his mouth had gone dry. He didn't know if it was because the one person he had personally invited actually was here in his apartment (even if by accident) or if it was the warning look from the older blond or the fact that he was cemented in his spot and did not know how to escape.

"Any day now, Ike." Zelda's authoritative voice carried from the bedroom with a hint of impatience.

"Electrolytes! Right!" The junior blurted, knowing he could pass off the reddening of his face to the large amounts of alcohol that he had consumed just hours ago. "Sheik…"

"Gatorade's in the upper right cabinet," the impassive male informed evenly.

As Ike clumsily grabbed a couple of bottles before retreating into his bedroom, Link breathed out an irritated sigh. "Marth." He jostled his frozen roommate. "You okay?"

Startled, Marth turned back from the uncomfortable, twisted position in his seat. "Yeah… yes, I'm fine." He stopped to re-think his answer. Not false. Why wouldn't he be fine?

Sheik raised an eyebrow at his sister's friends. This was weirder than usual, but it wasn't his business, so he continued like nothing had happened. "Want a drink?"

"You still have some left?" Marth asked, rather surprised.

"What do you have?" Link simultaneously asked, looking all too enthusiastic for a distraction from what (who) was in the other room. The way that undergraduate acted around Marth really bothered him. Really. And it was becoming a constant irritant.

A moment later just as Link was popping open a bottle of beer (and one for Marth), Zelda walked out with a satisfied smile. "It's fortunate that the boy was asleep, not unconscious. The latter would have warranted a trip to the emergency room."

"That's good," Marth supported before pressing his lips against the rim of the bottle and, for once, not perturbed by the nasty taste going down his throat.

Wordlessly, Sheik handed his sister a bottle and she accepted it gratefully. He didn't comment on how it suddenly seemed that his role models had all turned into alcoholics.

"I told your roommate to monitor his friend's breathing and position for the rest of the night, but it seems he's been drinking for a while…"

"More than a dozen," Sheik supplied, "marked on his forearm."

Link let out a short whistle, half impressed and half jealous of the number. Zelda gave her blond friend a disapproving look. "Link, don't even think about it. The guy's big."

Marth only looked a little more flushed as he finished the bottle in record time. Why, he didn't know. Beer was vile stuff. "I should go wish him a happy birthday. Since I'm here." He ignored the look that his roommate threw in his direction.

"Always the thoughtful one." Zelda nodded in approval, saying nothing more as she drank to a hopefully calm rest of the night with her friends and brother.

* * *

Marth's knock was interrupted with the crushing of aluminum. Concerned, Marth pushed open the door and watched the other neatly toss the flattened can into a small recycling bin.

"Hi." Marth's smile slipped right off when Ike jerked and wobbled nearly off the chair. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" He backed up and was going to shut the door when it was yanked open, almost taking his arm with it if he hadn't let go.

"It's okay," Ike hurriedly reassured him, "Uh… come in!"

The smell of alcohol on Ike was a little subtler than Marth had expected for someone who supposedly had so much to drink. He glanced at the other's arm to see if it was true.

Ike, who was again drawn into the habit of staring at Marth, could easily trace the other's visual trajectory and held up his arm with a smile, his manner not boastful but still like he was showcasing to impress. Not that he was trying to impress with something like this. "You want to be my twenty-first?"

Marth stared at the lines, and although Ike was unwavering, he drew the other's arm closer to examine the details of the pen marks. Some lines were in a different type of ink or color, some even obviously done by a different writer…

Regardless, there were actually twenty lines. Messy, but there. Marth let go and Ike responded by tucking his marked arm into his pocket with some sense of embarrassment.

"Twenty-first…?" Marth shook his head in disbelief. "How are you even standing up right now?"

"Huge meal, high tolerance, loads of water, and many hours," Ike answered honestly. "Oh, and being tall." As to emphasize this, he reached out as to lace his hand through the other's hair but with a pause, ended up grazing the top of Marth's head in a fleeting brush.

Marth's hand immediately went to the exact spot to smooth any disturbances. "I see." Tall was most likely Ike's euphemism for being densely packed due to a noticeably built body. "Well, I came to wish you a happy birth—"

"I can't believe you came," Ike interrupted, causing Marth to pause, but the junior continued with a surprisingly amount of calm fluidity, "I lied and told everyone I hit twenty-one so they would leave."

"Ike…" Marth took a step back when the taller student moved closer. Ike had to be drunk. Had to. If not, Marth himself was feeling some effects of the alcohol because he felt overly warm.

"I wanted you to be twenty-one," Ike finally explained. "You don't mind, do you? I mean… even if you're underaged—"

Marth cut him off right there. "It's fine." The gnawing feeling in his stomach returned. Again, Marth couldn't pinpoint the cause of it, and decided to ignore it when the other went to open a new bottle on his desk.

"You sure it's okay?" Ike opened a rectangle box and pulled out two shot glasses. "I don't want to pressure you."

He looked so apprehensive that Marth laughed softly and brushed aside his lengthy bangs by habit. "I've been drinking for years. Stop worrying."

Ike smiled and handed him a filled shot glass. "Courtesy of Sheik."

"Really."

The surprise must have been evident in his expression, because Ike nonchalantly replied as their glasses clinked against each other, "I was as pleasantly surprised as you are."

"Happy twenty-first, Ike."

As they knocked back their shots, Marth was mentally thanking Sheik for choosing such a smooth alcohol.

"You made it happy."

And with the level of seriousness in the other's eyes and the sincerity of the statement (subconscious or not), it dawned on Marth that Link was probably right.

* * *

_**Author's Notes: **__Reviews and comments are very much loved. Thank you!_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's Notes: **__Just want to wish everyone a Happy 2009!_

_**Warnings: **__Yaoi, shounen-ai, slash, whatever you call it. OOC-ness, clichés, un-beta-ed!_

_**Pairing: **__IkeMarth_

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Super Smash Brothers. Not that I would… seeing as what mess I would make of it…_

_**Summary: **__As a graduate student, Marth never wondered if there was anything other than academics & work. As a junior working part-time at the coffeeshop, Ike wondered why he kept staring at that student every Friday morning._

* * *

Mechanism

By SSBBSwords

* * *

Roy liked to think he was smarter than he looked. Not smart like 4.0 GPA smart, not smart like "Research indicates…" smart, but smart like daily-life smart.

It was after dinner and he was playing video games with Ike when a floor-mate dropped by his dorm room to borrow his notes from tutoring. She was a freshman. Blonde, friendly, sorority-girl-in-a-premed-world type of student. She was struggling.

"Thanks a bunch, Roy," she chirped, fingering through the pages as Roy half-heartedly tried to avoid Ike's attack on the television screen. Trying to be polite (i.e. attentive to the guest) was really too much to ask when he was one hit away from being K.O.-ed.

"No problem, Peach." The redhead turned slightly from his seated position on the floor, a wide grin on his face before Ike gave his character a vicious stab.

Player 1 flew off the visible area of the TV with a burst of light. Peach watched in awe as her classmate's smile dropped right off and was replaced with the aura of dark depression.

She giggled and reached down to mess up his ruffled hair. "See you at the review session. Thanks again."

Waiting until she was out of hearing range, Roy turned back to Ike with a glare. "You suck."

"So does your multi-tasking," Ike replied with a knowing smirk.

Roy leaned back against his bed and re-started the game. "Wasn't she pretty?"

Ike looked a little surprised at his question, probably because he had expected some other accusations of winning by cheating rather than questions about a girl.

"She goes to the tutoring session before mine, and I think she's pretty," the redhead elaborated, staring into the Menu screen like it held the explanation to life.

"Is this a crush?" Ike asked once the shock had worn off. "This is… unexpected."

"What do you think?" Roy returned his friend's question with another question. "Of her, I mean."

The junior looked a little skeptical, most likely because the conversation had turned in this direction, but nevertheless, Ike took a minute to consider Roy's question and then simply answered, "Bubbly."

"Bubbly," Roy repeated with a deadpan look. "Why do you make it sound like a bad thing?"

"It's not," Ike defensively argued, as if trying to spare Roy's feelings. "It's great that you like her. She's…" It took a long, awkward pause until Ike found the right word, "… cute. I guess."

The gears were turning in Roy's head, but he could tell Ike was too preoccupied with trying to be supportive of his 'choice' of a crush. "I thought you liked pretty."

"Pretty's fine…" Ike looked a little lost as to how the topic suddenly landed on his preferences, but rolled with the momentum anyway with an uncertain tone. "It's just…

Roy furrowed his brows in a frown, as if angry that Ike just didn't approve. "So cute and bubbly don't do it for you."

Ike couldn't quite figure out why he was starting to feel nervous. Maybe it was the way Roy was attacking his judgment. It was rather out of character for Roy.

"Uh… no?"

"What does?" Roy kept his manner as flat as he could. The hardest thing was to keep the excitement out of his voice.

"I don't know," Ike immediately replied, but rather put off by Roy's condemning look, he hastily filled in, "Calmer?"

His friend sounded so confused, but… _but_, if Roy knew Ike and he knew him well… it wouldn't be long until he would have a confession out of Ike. No one could closet-sulk like Ike did during a twenty-first birthday party if he wasn't waiting for something in particular. No one.

"I see," Roy said nonchalantly, before finally choosing the character he wanted as Player 1.

"Uh, sorry?" Ike followed his lead, but the hesitation remained in his tone. "You… should ask her out or something."

Roy was inwardly laughing at such advice. He could see it now. The epic one-liner that he would throw in Ike's face when the time came…

"Oh, I don't like her like that," Roy finally declared with an evil smile.

"Huh?" Ike looked completely bewildered. "Wait…"

"Why? You're about to get your ass kicked."

* * *

Some deity was laughing when the one place that Link and Marth did not share was their offices. Even more ironic was the fact that the offices were right next to each other.

Link spent a lot more time in Marth's than the other way around, but anything otherwise would be abnormal.

"I want to die," whined Link, his words slurred around the lollipop in his mouth. His laptop rolled unstable on his stomach when he twisted his horizontal position on the too-short couch to shoot pathetic eyes at his roommate.

Marth drew in a slow, frustrated breath, thankful that the graduate student that shared this space with him liked the outside world a lot more (thus was an infrequent occupant). This felt like the calm before a storm. Sitting at a desk with a stack of the last set of quizzes before the final, with the textbook and professor's order to write a question per section for the final. Review session on Saturday, plus he was putting off studying for finals and preparing a presentation due next week, but who was counting?

"Try sucking harder," he muttered back without a tint of humor in his tone.

Sliding the laptop down, Link sat up with admiration and pulled out the sucker out with a damp _pop_. "I love you."

Marth looked up from a student's quiz and managed a small smile. "I thought you would."

Even though Marth returned his focus to his papers, Link continued to stare at his roommate with a critical eye. After a long minute (and then some), Link turned back to his computer with a low chuckle.

"I see why that boy likes you."

That finally caught Marth's attention. The '3' on the student's paper turned out looking like a '2' when the pen slipped. Shit. Marth began to fix his error with more attention than necessary.

Link tilted his head back to glance at Marth's stooping posture. Trying to hide something? Link smirked to himself and returned to playing Solitaire on his computer screen. What? Expected actual work on there? No way.

"You don't even deny it anymore," Link noted casually, moving a black nine onto a red ten. "Why am I always right?"

Marth looked up with a glare, which was probably ruined by the light pink dusting his cheeks. For once, he was not appreciating that Link was not facing him. Usually people realized their mistakes when he glared. Oh, wait. He forgot that Link was impervious to this look. "I'm not agreeing. He's just really… straightforward."

The blond simply hummed a lethargic note and placed the lollipop back in his mouth.

"Link…" Marth pressed his free hand against his warm face in hopes of getting rid of the extra heat faster. "Why do you bring this up?"

His roommate still kept his uninterested posture on the couch, facing the opposite wall. Several seconds of silence, then Link replied with a short laugh, "Teasing you is fun."

Marth had to wonder if that was it. He could see Link double-click a three of diamonds into the upper right square. He knew Link was more than a sadist for his misery, so he went another route. "But you don't like him."

"I don't have to like him," was the blond's counter to his statement.

"Of course not," Marth said softly as if soothing an irritated child. "Why don't you like him?"

"Why _do _you like him?"

At that question, Marth's motivation to continue the conversation had come to an end. He resumed writing the '37' on the student's quiz and reached for another from the stack.

Link swirled the sucker in his mouth, and he smirked at his Solitaire game. Oblivious as usual, that boy.

* * *

Roy's brain was going to fall out of his head. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if his calculator exploded from all this goddamn work.

"Bye! Good luck!" Pit waved at the students leaving his review session. Roy simply glared harder at the last problem.

The brunet dropped into a crouch across the table from Roy, who finally looked up from the practice test and locked eyes with the tutor who was peeking over the table like a four-year-old.

"Hello, need help?" Pit asked with a bright smile.

The redhead gave his tutor a pained look. "I'm stuck."

Pit straightened into a hunched position over the table, and Roy mentally noted it was very fortunate his tutor wasn't a girl or else he would be caught in an all-too-revealing situation.

"How are you stuck?"

Roy pushed his paper to the brunet, and Pit scanned his numbers.

"Okay, then..." Pit clicked a pen and circled some numbers. "The question gives you the specific heat, and you just found the heat and mass. What equation do you use to find change in temperature?"

The redhead's jaw dropped comically. "They _gave_ me the specific heat?"

Had Roy looked up, he would have seen Pit trying to hide a wide grin behind his hand, but since he hadn't, Pit managed to cleverly disguise a giggle as a cough. Sort of. "Roy, you're…"

"Go ahead and laugh, genius." The second year waved a hand flippantly while triumphantly scribbling. "YES. We can go home now!"

"Yay!" Pit cheered and began to put away his notes and markers.

Roy carelessly shoved the packet of paper, pencil, and calculator into his backpack in one fluid movement. "Hey, Pit?"

"Hm?" The brunet exited the room last, checking that the door locked when it swung shut. "Something wrong?"

Shifting his backpack as they started walking back toward the dorms, Roy was impressed by how the other sophomore noticed the change of focus. "You know that… age-thing that I was worried about?" The redhead hesitated and then hastily added, "I ask you 'cause you're smart and objective and pretty cool, you know?"

Pit cast a quick sidelong glance at him, and looked fully embarrassed at the slew of compliments. "Thanks? I'm really not. I mean, I remember…did you ever tell… your friend?"

"Actually…no…" Roy mumbled, suddenly recalling that if his suspicions were right (and they were!), there was still the 'age-thing'… right? He would have to worry about that later. The issue now was the denial.

"Funny thing… but I never told him 'cause he said he didn't like… uh… her." The redhead's words took a stumble when he, at last second, decided it was less complicated if he used a pronoun substitution. He mentally apologized to the very much male, albeit very pretty, teacher's assistant.

Pit pursed his lips and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "Maybe he really doesn't like her."

Roy stubbornly shook his head. "He's in denial!" However, he noticed the other's dubious expression and tried to rephrase himself. "I mean, okay… assume he's stupid and really, truly doesn't know how he feels. I have _evidence! _He stares at…uh, her. Only her and _all _the time. Mopes. Kind of zones out when you ask him what kind of person he likes…" Roy inhaled and heavily sighed. "How do I—his best friend in the whole world—get him to see the light?"

The brunet's eyes widened. "That _is_… rather obvious." Suddenly, the shorter sophomore softly laughed. "I'm relieved this is an easy problem."

"How's this easy?" Roy challenged with an indignant huff. "It's more frustrating than chemistry!"

Pit hugged his books closer to his chest and responded with a cheesy grin, "You aren't an applicable catalyst."

"What?" Roy's expression blanked. Huh? Catalyst?

The brunet turned and snickered at how Roy had stopped all movement, now seemingly cemented to the ground. With a reassuring smile, Pit carefully began his explanation, "Roy, let me put it this way. Your friend's probably the RDS."

"RDS?" Roy automatically repeated, looking completely baffled.

"The rate-determining step, remember?" Pit defined, looking very pleased with himself. "And…?" The smaller student raised an eyebrow, silently prompting the redhead to come to his own conclusion.

Roy slowly realized where Pit was going with this. "—The reaction only goes as fast as the slowest step… and I don't… shouldn't… apply."

* * *

Friday, 6:09 am.

Ike was sitting in the dim coffeehouse at a small table. He hadn't even bothered to turn on the lights. The most that he did was start the water boiler.

He was staring at the door when he noticed the shift of shadows, and his ears picked up the sound of the handle turning even before he saw the door open.

"I can not believe you are here this early," Marth said, while blinking and waiting for his eyes to adjust to the lack of lighting.

Ike had never come to work this early. Ever. Of course, he wouldn't admit aloud that he had been here since six in the morning. It also wasn't worth mentioning that he just wanted to be there when the other student arrived.

And if Marth was such an early riser, well, Ike could match that.

"Was bored." Ike almost winced at his own words. Well, that sounded like a perfect excuse for a college student. Sleep was for the weak. Right. "What's your excuse?"

Before the other could sit down across from him, Ike jumped from his seat and went behind the counter.

"Work," the smaller student answered simply. "Since finals are next week, I need to get a lot done before break."

"Cramming?" Ike asked as he tossed in the square tea packet and began filling the cup with hot water.

"Exactly," Marth agreed noncommittally, eying the clear display, still empty because Ike had yet to put in the breakfast pastries. "When are your finals?"

Ike capped the drink and frowned. Should he be worried that he hadn't memorized his final schedule? "Monday, Tuesday, Thursday… or something like that. Yours?"

Their hands brushed when Marth reached out to take the cup. Ike usually carefully slid the drink over, but either he had become careless, or Marth was becoming less reserved.

"I had one last week. Something this weekend… it's a mess. Don't ask." Marth brushed it off.

Ike returned to the table he had previously occupied and the other student followed. Dropping back into his chair, Ike scanned Marth from head to foot. "Damn, you're stressed. Did you sleep?"

"No," Marth replied with a low groan as he rubbed an eye with his palm and pushed back his bangs, mussing his hair more. "I hate… no, I mean whatever. I'm positive every graduate student feels like this now."

First, the junior thought the other student was denying the stress. Then the oddity of the other's words dawned. _What _kind of student?

As usual, Marth was popping off the cap, and Ike had to focus all his wits on just breathing. This… this… was a _graduate student?_ As in… way older than Ike had thought? As in… completely out of his league…?

Marth finally noticed Ike's sudden uneasy expression, and the older student looked all too concerned as he reached out to wave a hand in front of the undergraduate's unblinking eyes.

Holy fuck. _Seriously? _Ike swallowed nervously. Yes, Ike reiterated to himself, this guy was older, albeit way cuter, and probably had three times his IQ and twice his life experience.

"Ike…?"

He wanted to crawl into a hole and die… to like someone like this… really like. Always anticipating their next meeting. Always trying to be… _likable._ To charm, to impress, to make him smile… really smile, not that fake, polite stuff…

And to admit it _now_… Ike mentally groaned. What now? What was he supposed to do? What could he do?

"Are you okay?" Marth leaned over the small table and gently placed a palm on Ike's cheek. "You're too warm," he concluded with a scolding tone. "Is it too late to call in sick?"

He thought he couldn't move, so Ike was rather surprised at himself when he regained enough brain cells to pull away from the other's touch. He was burning, and Marth was probably too well-mannered to point out that he was caught in one of the most embarrassing moments of his life (never mind that most frequented after he met Marth).

"I'm just… uhm… " Ike grimaced. Oh, shit… you would think at such a cliché moment, he could think of a proper line to say, but he couldn't. Or was that the cliché? "I just realized… uh… something that's kind of… awkward?"

"Oh?" Marth looked a little skeptical, but nonetheless sat back and turned his gaze toward the tea, as if not wanting to disconcert Ike by more staring, "Something you want to keep a secret?"

Ike couldn't stop the abrupt laugh that escaped. Even something like this, and the guy subtly (quite graciously actually) gave him a way out. Not out, per se. More like… it was a nice thing to do. Wow. He sure knew how to pick them. Really.

As if sharing his sudden amusement, Marth gave him a small smile over the cup's brim. Ike's blush remained, but the junior managed to answer coherently, "Yeah, I guess. It was stupid."

The other student simply murmured quietly in response and seemed content with sipping the steaming tea.

When his heart had finally slowed to a safer rate, Ike ventured to ask something that he had wanted to ask since last week. "Hey, Marth… can I ask you something?"

"Always," Marth replied pleasantly, after swallowing and instinctively wetting his bottom lip.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ike worried that this was a very odd question to be asking another guy, especially one that evoked such volatile feelings, but in his defense, he had been planning this question for a whole six days…

"Are you free this afternoon?"

If Marth was surprised at Ike's delivery, he didn't show it. Considering the question, Marth candidly answered, "I have time after three."

"Can you… uhm… help me get a thank-you gift? For Sheik's sister?" Ike asked hopefully.

The junior was relieved to see the other smile.

"Of course."

* * *

"Hey, I thought I heard you running off."

Marth turned around slowly like he had been caught red-handed with something stolen. He had gotten five steps away from the room in which their offices were. He had quickly dropped off some papers before leaving, but his neighbor apparently had very good hearing.

Standing in the doorway with eyes narrowed, Link glared suspiciously at his roommate. "Where are you going?" Translation: I can't get away from this misery, so you can't either.

"Ah… shopping?" Marth was being truthful, but under his friend's gaze, he felt guilty. For no practical reason!

"Oh." The blond seemed to deflate and nodded approvingly. "You have the grocery list with you?" Food was very important.

Wordlessly, Marth pulled out a folded piece of paper that had been stuck to their refrigerator for the past, who knew, two weeks? Using the pen that he had stuck behind his ear, Link used the wall as a hard surface and proceeded to add about ten more items.

"I think you'll need the car," Link informed thoughtfully, pulling out his keys. "Think you'll be joining me tonight in lab?"

"Might as well," Marth answered after a few seconds of consideration. "See you later."

"Bring food, yeah?" Link called at his retreating back.

Marth scanned the list as he exited the building. The grocery store trip might take longer than he thought, and he had wanted to drop whatever Ike bought off at Zelda's.

Entering the student store on first floor, he scanned the area for Ike, and quickly found the junior perusing the books.

When he sidled up beside the younger man, Marth idly commented, "I'm glad you're so tall."

"Oh, shit!" Ike slammed the book shut in response to the unexpected presence.

Not bothering to contain his amusement, Marth laughed and tried to be apologetic. "Sorry! Hey, do you need to go grocery shopping too?"

Chuckling almost nervously, the junior ran a hand through blue spikes. "Why not?"

Ike was pushing the shopping cart for him. Marth was about a quarter way through the list.

"That is the longest grocery list I have ever seen," the undergraduate said with a deadpan expression.

Marth transferred a loaf of bread and bagels into the cart and gently tugged the cart into following as he stopped in front of the cereal display. "I've done longer."

Two boxes of cereal, oatmeal, and then some dried pack of noodles. Strawberry jam, peanut butter, raisins, some random red sauce… Ike ogled at the amount of food being unceremoniously dumped into the cart.

"… Is your fridge _empty?_" the junior asked as they moved onto the dairy, lunchmeat, juices sections.

"Empty?" Marth repeated as he heaved two gallons of milk into the cart and then added yogurt to the list. He marked these off with a pen. "Hmm… maybe. I've been in the lab and office so much, I haven't noticed." Halfway there or something like that.

Ike watched the smaller student study the products of each section with focus undeserving to merely consumable objects.

"I was thinking..." the junior began as they rolled into the fruit and vegetable area. "Is it stupid if I got her flowers?"

Marth's shopping momentum was finally broken, and the graduate student paused in the middle of apple-picking. "How is that stupid?" When he knotted the plastic bag and carefully placed the fruit into the cart, Marth grabbed another plastic bag. "That's really sweet. Let's get some here and then we'll go arrange it in her apartment."

"You have the key?" Ike's eyes widened.

"She has mine," Marth responded easily with a short laugh. "What else is new?"

"You three really are that close," the junior murmured, almost to himself, as he maneuvered the cart around the displays that Marth kept circling.

Marth knotted another plastic bag, and made the last check on the list. "Disturbingly so." The list was complete, so all that was left was the checkout. "Let's go."

As they passed the frozen food aisle, Ike stopped and pivoted the cart. "Marth, can we get ice cream?"

Marth turned and the junior looked cheerful. It didn't seem all that appropriate to laugh (he didn't want to seem patronizing) but… it was almost cute.

"I forgot… what else did you need?"

They had stopped by Ike's apartment to drop off the junior's groceries (plus the melting ice cream) before they headed for Zelda's place.

"So where do you live?" Ike asked as he cradled the bouquet of flowers.

Marth knocked on his friend's door before unlocking the door. "In the next building."

The two stepped into a very clean apartment. Marth stepped into the kitchen and ducked down to search the cabinets for a vase.

"Oh… right. Grad apartments." Ike shifted uncomfortably in the living room, looking around and wondering what he should be doing.

Marth straightened with a vase and a smile. Leave it to Zelda to be prepared for flowers. After filling it with water, he set it on the dining table. Ike looked a little confused.

"Take it out of the plastic," Marth informed helpfully.

The junior bit his bottom lip and removed the large bundle from the plastic confines. Loose greens scattered, and Marth removed some extra leaves before putting the flowers in the water.

As he fussed around with the balance of it, Ike was leaning over the thank-you card like it was an exam.

"I don't know what to write. 'Thank you for making sure my friend was okay' doesn't sound that good."

"Sounds fine to me," Marth reassured, sweeping the leaves into the plastic and discarding them into the trash.

The undergraduate student pondered for a minute and then scribbled a message in the card, then leaving it propped beside the vase with Zelda's name scrawled on the front cover.

"Hey…"

Marth caught the other's gaze, "Hm?"

"Thanks." Ike glanced down, awkwardly avoiding looking at the older student. "I… really appreciate this."

"You're welcome, but…" Marth wasn't sure it was he should bring this up, but it was occurring enough to be a cause for concern. "Is something wrong?"

Ike's eyes darted to the side, and skirted even more when Marth moved closer to try to hold his wavering attention. "No… anyway, can we go?"

What issue was he pushing? Assume it was… well, Marth himself had admitted Ike was a straightforward person… so if he was going to be forward about it…?

"Ike." Marth firmly took the other's face between his hands, as to bring the junior meet his gaze. "Why are you acting like this?"

The younger man was turning pink. He really was. When Ike grasped his wrist, Marth didn't know whether to let go or not, just as Ike didn't seem to know what to do.

"It's… I'm not—this is…"

"Is this because you like me?"

* * *

_**Author's Notes: **__Comments if you're still reading, please?_


	6. Epilogue

_**Author's Notes: **__I don't think I did IkeMarth justice, but it was fun!_

_**Warnings: **__Yaoi, shounen-ai, slash, whatever you call it. OOC-ness, clichés, un-beta-ed!_

_**Pairing: **__IkeMarth_

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Super Smash Brothers. That would be bad…_

_**Summary: **__As a graduate student, Marth never wondered if there was anything other than academics & work. As a junior working part-time at the coffeeshop, Ike wondered why he kept staring at that student every Friday morning._

* * *

Mechanism

By SSBBSwords

* * *

"Tell me. Do you like me?"

His request and rewording was steady, but concerned that his manner was too authoritative, Marth softly brushed the other's cheek before dropping his hands accordingly.

Ike looked absolutely torn. And scared. Any more anxiety and the junior's little semblance of self-possession might just completely dissolve.

Being the more articulate one right now, Marth figured it would be best to drop this entire issue. He didn't have to put up with this. The one time that he had returned another's interest in him; the one time that he had considered the potential of a romantic relationship; the one time that he hadn't felt the need to turn and run the other way…

Marth stifled a tired sigh and took a step back to give Ike his personal space again. "Never mind," the graduate student finally murmured evenly. "Forget I asked. Let's go."

"Wait." The junior grabbed his arm.

The strength that the younger man possessed made Marth hesitate. He would have immediately tried to pull away, but this grip was… strong. Significantly stronger than he could handle.

Ike seemed to notice the apprehension that flickered in his expression, because the taller student guiltily released his hold. "Sorry, I…"

"You didn't do anything wrong," Marth replied, dismissing the incomplete apology and nonchalantly pivoted as to end their eye contact. "It was my mistake."

This time, the other's hand pulled at the back of his sweater.

Eyes narrowed in a rare show of irritation, Marth continued to stare at the opposite wall. He was mature enough to handle this with dignity, but this was getting too far. He ran his hand through his bangs as a distraction, his tone carrying a hint of warning when he said, "Ike…"

"I like you." With his free hand, Ike reached for Marth's hand and nervously held it, successfully halting the graduate student's movements. "I'm sorry if this stresses you out more, but I like you. Really."

Stress? Slightly curious, Marth turned around, only to glance at their joined hands. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know what to say," Ike responded in a rush of desperation. "I don't want you to feel pressured to answer me."

Logically, an answer required knowing the question. "What is the question?" Marth asked, relishing the lightening feeling in his chest.

Ike ducked his head, embarrassed, and his grip was clammy. "That's the thing… I don't even know how to ask you. Uh… is it… 'Please go out with me?' or… something like that?"

Hand still securely wrapped up by the other's palm, Marth shifted uneasily. "Something like that…" Marth gently covered the other's hand with his other hand, "Ike, I'm not going anywhere."

The junior got the hint and let go, wiping his hand indiscreetly on his pants. "Sorry…" The nervousness practically emanated off the younger man in waves. How in the world was Marth making this boy so jumpy? "So… uh… would you?"

Would he? Marth wanted to smile. Here he was, getting ready to nurse a bruised ego, only to find himself in this position.

"And… be _brutally_ honest," Ike added with determination.

"Why would I lie?" Marth asked, genuinely interested at the sudden demand.

Slightly frowning, the younger man replied with a sullen shrug, "'Cause you're too polite, so…yeah." Even insecure, Ike straightened and prepared to be very much rejected. "Will you go out with me?"

With the corners of his mouth lifting, Marth tried to look as serious as he could, but really, he was having the hardest time with Ike's antics.

"Well, honestly," Marth began all too formally, "it sounds a little strange."

A horrified look re-settled in Ike's eyes, but before the junior could scare himself into passing out on the floor, Marth laughed softly. "I will, so I hope you can stop acting like that."

Marth had accounted for the minute that it would take his words to reach Ike, but what surprised him was that his words seemingly didn't register in the younger man's mind.

"Ike, it's fine. I can't say it hasn't crossed my mind before…" Marth inched forward to stare into the other's widened eyes. "You… really worry me when you get that look."

Ike jerked into a swift movement, catching Marth unaware in an unexpected embrace. The smaller man staggered at the sudden force, blinking to refocus when the distance was cut short so abruptly. He was pressed almost awkwardly against the other boy, cheek against Ike's chest, and he almost jumped when the other's chin found his right shoulder.

"Ike…!"

"You're serious," The junior breathed, as if awed by the events that had transpired. "Really serious?"

Draping one arm lightly around the other's waist to return the embrace, Marth placed his other hand on the other's chest for leverage. The arms around his shoulders loosened, and Marth pulled back from the other's body enough to tilt upwards enough to simply kiss Ike's cheek to confirm the sincerity of his words.

"Really serious," Marth echoed.

* * *

_Epilogue_

* * *

It was Sunday night when Ike's cell phone vibrated across an open textbook.

In less than ten seconds, the junior had grabbed the sliding object and swiftly left the lounge.

Roy's mouth dropped open. What the hell was that? How was he supposed to study when Ike does something _that _suspicious?

When Ike had returned, he seemed all business when he continued to make flashcards.

"Who was that?" Roy practically demanded in a hiss, certain that he could not concentrate until he had some kind of confession from his friend.

"Uh…" Ike looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "Marth…?" the junior answered in a mumble, extremely unenthused to release such information.

"_What?_" the redhead exploded, slamming down his pencil. He ignored the few indignant glares from fellow cramming student in the lounge. "You're kidding!"

"No…" Ike bent over his notes more.

"You're phone buddies now or what?" Roy prodded, eager for his friend to correct his lame assumption.

Ike rubbed his head, tangling blue spikes, before admitting very quietly, "I… uh… we're… together?"

The sophomore jumped to his feet and grabbed his friend by the shoulders. Completely confused at the other's actions, Ike simply stared at Roy like he had grown two heads.

"Really? _Finally!"_ the redhead exclaimed with exuberance. "Man, I'm so proud."

"You are?" Ike broke into a grin that matched his friend's.

"_Yes,_" Roy replied with the utmost truth. "Geez, you were so fucking slow!"

Eyes widening, Ike lost his smile. "I was?"

Roy rolled his eyes and sat back down. "Trust me. You were. What'd he say?"

"When I asked or on the phone?"

The redhead gave his friend an expressionless stare. "I assume when you say 'together,' he said yes… so why'd he call?"

"Good luck on finals."

"Oh, that's… cool," the redhead vaguely commented, since he wasn't sure what he was supposed to say to something like that. In his opinion, such a phone call was too sweet for his taste.

Ike leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Roy, what's that face for?"

Ah, shoot. "I always look like this."

"I'm not going to drop off the face of the earth now that, you know, I'm…yeah."

It was like the junior had read his mind, and Roy frowned. Friends who got into relationships always disappeared… but it was kind of nice that Ike was reassuring him that he planned to be an exception.

"Hey, actually, you might drop in more, 'cause you won't be zoning out all the time!" the sophomore responded cheerfully, since he was the optimistic type. "But, seriously… wow. After all that angst, it turned out okay."

"Angst?" Ike repeated with a incredulous look.

"Oh, yeah… remember the whole… Roy, I lost all knowledge of the English language when I ran into him at the superma—"

Ike seemed to pale on the spot and hurriedly interrupted Roy from retelling any more embarrassing memories. "—I remember now, thanks."

* * *

"Where's lover boy?" Link rhetorically asked as the two of them waited for their orders to be filled at the coffeeshop on Wednesday.

Marth blinked. "Who?"

Link heaved a dramatic sigh. "Fuck, Marth, what planet are you from?" Drawing himself to his full height, the blond grabbed Marth's tea that the employee had just set on the counter. His expression warped into one of complete reverence when he transferred the cup into Marth's hands. Also noteworthy was the doting shine in his eyes. "Just let me daydream of our marriage while—"

"Stop it!" Marth took his drink and, with his free hand, tried to smother his best friend. If he wasn't appalled, he didn't know what he was.

"Hey, what's the deal?" Link laughed good-naturedly and dodged Marth's next attempt to keep his mouth closed. "I'm not young enough?"

With the beginning trace of a scowl on his face, Marth managed to clamp a hand on the other's smirking lips. "Why would that matter—?"

Wriggling out of his friend's grasp, Link gave a lewd grin. "Uh, stamina?"

"_Shit! _ LINK!" Marth gritted out, seeing red and probably flushing a hue of the said color. "You did _not _just say that." Marth took to emphasizing his threat by jerking the blond closer by the collar and landing a decent hit on the other's head that had the blond grimacing and rubbing the sore area.

"If you say so," Link agreed very readily and obediently.

Marth swiped the paper bag that held Link's lunch and left his friend to account for his own coffee. As they headed back to their offices, Link stage-whispered while fixing his shirt, "Boy must be a masochist."

"If so," Marth exhaled slowly and a serene smile graced his face, more effectively scaring Link than any physical intimidation, "I'm his official sadist then."

The blond blinked and cautiously fell into step with his friend. "… Huh?"

Marth gave a low chuckle, which was guaranteed to send a chill up anyone's spine. "I'll let you know how his 'stamina' is."

Unfortunately, Link's mind was less inclined to recognize danger and attuned to being creative with innuendos, and when he fit the pieces together, the blond gasped. "No!"

"No, what?" Personally, Marth had already dropped the subject and was now only thinking about his schedule until Friday and when he had time to sleep. He hadn't realized Link had stopped walking altogether to stare at him.

"The boy _actually _asked you out?" When his friend didn't dignify him with an answer, Link pressed on, "Did you torture a confession out of him? The guy looked perfectly content with staring at you and making polite conversation."

Marth sighed. "Not everyone is as theatrical as you."

"Pity," Link mused before returning to the topic at hand. "Well, nonetheless, congratulations are in order."

"Why's that?" Marth asked, amused at his roommate's reaction

"Your boyfriend finally grew balls!"

"_Excuse me?"_

Snickering, Link ran away as fast as he could from his incensed roommate.

* * *

On Friday of finals week, Ike found himself sitting outside the coffeeshop in the patio with nothing to do but wait. He had finished his morning shift at work and he had finished his last exam the day before. To be honest, he was sitting in a cloud of anticipation that was growing so thick that he would do anything for a distraction.

So he ended up flipping through the university's daily newspaper like a true slacking college student.

"Ike!"

The junior looked up from the paper and caught sight of Roy approaching his table with an energetic wave. With the sophomore was a smaller brunet, who looked familiar only as one of dozens of students that interacted with Marth while Ike was taking his breaks.

… No wonder why Marth's roommate thought he was shady.

"Hey, done with work?"

"Yeah." Ike stretched and glanced between his friend and companion, before asking, "What's up?"

The brunet spoke up with a cheerful smile, "I'm dragging Roy with me to turn in my timesheets!"

"Then he's going to feed me, because he has swipes, and I don't," Roy finished with his own clarification, thus supplementing that he had run out of food. "By the way, this is Pit. He was my chem tutor. Pit, that's Ike. He's, you know, my friend."

Before Ike could even get in a word edgewise (not that he was usually talkative), Pit had shaken his hand and said, "It's great to finally put a face to your name!"

"Err…" Since when did Ike's reputation precede him? Better yet, did he really want to know? "Likewise…"

"So what're you up to?" Roy followed up in quick succession.

Ike shrugged and simply answered, "Just waiting."

"Ooooh," the redhead drew out the sound like there was a deep river of understanding between them, before diving right back in, "Date?"

In the middle of the day? Ike shook his head and hoped he was correctly fixing the other's speculation. "It's just lunch..."

"If it's with your girlfriend, isn't that a date?" Pit asked casually with knowing sparkle in his eyes.

As if it wasn't already a little awkward saying so little in comparison with the two chatty second years, but Pit's question was met with undisturbed silence.

Roy laughed suddenly as to dispel the weird atmosphere. "Right! It would be…"

In any other situation, Ike would be deciding if he should explain what went wrong in the sentence or play it off as is, but his eyes locked on the individual behind Pit who had very silently entered their conversation circle without a sound.

"Well, I'm physiologically male, so it must be lunch."

"Marth!" Pit whirled around with a bright grin. "I haven't seen you in forever!"

In the meantime, Roy was mouthing apologies to Ike for spilling the beans, such that Pit was under the impression that Ike had finally asked an older woman out. Right. Ike shuddered at the thought. If it hadn't been Marth, this relationship wouldn't have gone further than seeing each other for less than an hour a week.

Marth, on the other hand, was simply answering Pit's many questions about class and plans for the vacation before the graduate student politely closed the conversation, glancing at Ike to catch the other's attention. "Ike."

"Yeah, I'm ready to go," the junior stood up in one fluid motion, the heavy metal chair grating against the concrete as it was shoved back. "See you later, Roy, Pit."

"Bye, you two. Have a good break," Marth politely said with a smile.

Roy watched the two older students walk away, not in the direction of the campus' conglomeration of fast food restaurants, but toward the perimeter of the school as to leave campus. Not a date. Right.

"Hmm," Pit murmured, eyeing the retreating couple with a thoughtful expression, "That's cute."

"Did you figure it out?" Roy raised an eyebrow. Pit, the ultimate quick study.

"It's… transparent," the brunet said with a laugh.

* * *

After lunch, the two had gone back to Ike's apartment instead of parting ways, for reasons that Ike did not know.

Marth was flipping through the limited channels of the television with tired-looking eyes. He settled on the news and relaxed against the couch. More comforting though, was how he leaned against the taller student with a soft sigh.

"Marth." Ike reached for the other's hand that was nearest. Marth let him lace their fingers together and dropped his head against Ike's shoulder.

Eyes closing, the graduate student slowly inhaled, finally succumbing to the drowsy feeling that had been lost since he started running on adrenaline and too much caffeine. "What?"

"You can have my bed," Ike offered, knowing very well how little rest Marth had gotten this week.

"No, it's fine. I'll go to bed early today."

Marth had calculated this when he planned to meet up with Ike today, but figured he would be awake enough to get home. Ironically, he forgot how much he enjoyed the other's company and ended up denying Ike's offer to take him home. Plus, Link's little comments were increasing in frequency, and Marth didn't want to go home to that.

"This is considered early," Ike pointed out, but noticed how quiet and relaxed Marth had become. He was falling asleep against Ike, and the junior didn't want to move him. Still, Ike couldn't imagine himself being more comfortable than a legitimate mattress. "Never mind."

Knowing that he would most likely be back to entertain himself with the television, Ike left the channel on the droning news reporter and shifted his body until Marth gently slid from his shoulder to his chest. It wasn't until he had cradled the smaller man in his arms that Marth made a confused noise and opened his eyes again.

"Ike!"

Any further protest died when the junior simply secured his hold and carried the other into the next room. Wide-eyed, Marth found himself set down on an un-made bed, blankets having been flung to one corner.

"I don't care if you wake up at three in the morning. Besides..." Ike sat on the corner of his bed and pulled the covers over Marth's lap. "No roommate to bother you."

"Wake me up in an hour." Marth didn't want to sound weak, but really, his entreaty sounded a little pathetic in his ears. He hoped he would have his rational thinking back after he slept a little.

"Sure."

When Ike leaned down, probably to adjust pillows or something thoughtful of that nature, Marth met him halfway, eyes closed and mouth seeking Ike's in a brief kiss. Obviously surprised, Ike pulled away, noting the lethargy in the other's actions, and lightly pushed Marth against the mattress.

"An hour, Ike," Marth repeated softly, pulling up the covers and rolling into a more comfortable position.

"Right," the junior confirmed, pulling the curtains closed.

When Marth woke up later that day, the grogginess had him absolutely confused. A) He didn't know where he was, and B) He didn't know _when _it was.

Twisting beneath sheets that didn't feel familiar, but with a scent that did, Marth slowly sat up in a daze. He thought the room was pitch black, but his eyes were now adjusting to see a desk in front of him. Oh. Ike's room. He knew that. 1:38 am.

So that was why it was so dark. Getting out of bed was the sad part, since he had been so warmly bundled. A check out the window showed no sun and no students milling around the streets below. It was… really, really late. Shit.

Where was Ike? Marth glanced around the room. Not in here.

Although there was light shining out from Sheik's closed door across the hall, Marth found Ike sleeping on the couch as if this was a daily occurrence.

"Deep sleeper, huh?" Marth muttered, more to himself, before shaking the other awake. Tried to, that is. "Ike… IKE!"

The young man jolted awake at that particular hard shake. "What happened?"

"You didn't wake me up," Marth said softly, not wanting to alarm the sleepy junior. "I didn't want you sleeping out here."

"Oh…" Ike simply yawned and sat up, rubbing his head and spiking up flattened hair in the process. "Okay."

"I'll head home. Thanks for having me over."

Marth held out a hand to help the other up, and although Ike took it, the younger man stood up and asked, "What're you going to do at home?"

"… Sleep?"

"Okay." Apparently, Ike's vocabulary regressed when dozing. Keeping the other's hand firmly in his grip, Ike led the way back to his room.

Marth puzzled over this action. "Ike… what's this?"

"My bed." As if expecting the other to escape, Ike unceremoniously pushed Marth onto one side of the mattress first and rearranged himself on the other side. "You're sleeping either way. Why does location matter?"

Marth smiled. That was a decent argument for someone who was already settled to go back to sleep. Ike seemed to favor sleeping on his back, so it was quite easy to have a face-to-face conversation. Marth propped himself up on the younger man, who opened previously closed eyes.

"This isn't a bother?" Marth asked worriedly.

Ike looked amused for about two seconds and, in a twisting movement of blankets, pushed Marth back down beside him, rolling over to wrap an arm around his waist. Marth was sure he had turned red and was thankful that it was so damn dark. He turned his head to stare at the other's sleeping face.

However, he was surprised when Ike opened his eyes and closed the distance between them by pressing a soft kiss against his mouth. Slowly pulling away a centimeter, the junior subtly shifted and matched their lips together again more firmly, a little more perfectly.

"Sorry 'bout not waking you up," Ike mumbled against his mouth, the intimacy causing the warm tingles to spread through his body.

"S'okay," Marth whispered back.

"This is okay?" Ike asked, tightening his arm around Marth like he wanted to bring the other closer to him.

"Yeah."

* * *

_End._

* * *

_**Author's Notes: **__Review please? _

_I'd love any comments on characters, events, plot progression, pairings, or just your observations as you read. Suggestions for future reference are loved too!_


End file.
